


The Cat From U.N.C.L.E.

by ElicBxn



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 17:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19795360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElicBxn/pseuds/ElicBxn
Summary: This story was inspired by the show where Napoleon sprained his knee by tripping over the office cat (The Bow Wow Affair.)  Originally printed in Can You Get Channel D in the Back of a '57 Chevy? under my real name Leah McGrew  This is Life 4 of the 9 Lives of Mekon.  Sadly, this is the last one written, at least at this time.  For Life 3 go to https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033463?fbclid=IwAR1WNxwGgWql_tLRoVgSg0NDJrP9tM9m0rHzxJd1EwoNQ4cLtp-1XTz5Mf0





	The Cat From U.N.C.L.E.

The door to U.N.C.L.E. headquarters library opened before a young woman, arms filled with bundled newspapers. Her eyes took in the files that had been so carefully organized the night before to be ready for today's work strewn across the foor and some sort of lump with pegs on top in the middle of her now empty desk. Then the lump moved and looked at her.  
She screamed, dropped the newspapers and jumped back. The door closed.

*****

Napoleon, gun drawn, bolted from his office at the sound of the alarm. He spotted Illya in the corridor.  
The alarm sound indicated that the perimeter was already broken. Napoleon darted to the nearest intercom to get the location from security.  
"In the library, Mr. Solo," the woman told him, before cutting him off to inform the next person.  
"Library?" Illya asked. It was on their level, but almost a block away on the other side of the building. They started running.  
When they reached the library, Napoleon pushed his way to the front of the agents outside the door.  
"Has there been any effort to communicate with the invader?"  
"Yes, but they aren't responding, Mr. Solo. Miss Brown did have the door sealed, although she still isn't very clear on what she saw." The agent who made the report was young, but Napoleon knew he was very competent.  
"Unseal the door. Illya and I will go in first. You, Jones and Peters will directly back us up. The rest of you be ready. We don't know what's in there."  
Napoleon darted through the door, seeing the disorder of the files all about, looking for danger. He felt something under his foot and lost his balance. There was a loud yell and stinging pain in his ankle as he tried to twist to see what was happening.  
Illya checked to keep from falling over Napoleon. Napoleon saw him relax -- whatever he had fallen over and the building were no longer in danger.  
"Are you all right?" Illya asked, leaning over his partner.  
"What is it?" Napoleon struggled to sit up. His ankle hurt, but not badly. There was none of the pain of a real injury -- more like the burn of a deep scratch.  
"It's a cat," Illya said.  
Assured that Napoleon was all right, Illya slipped his gun away and went to the other side of the desk.  
"Come on, kitty. Come here, fellow," he said softly.  
Napoleon had never heard Illya talk like this. If Illya would use that voice on women, he'd have them flocking to him.  
"Mew," came a soft, frightened response.  
"Come on, big fellow, nobody's going to hurt you."  
Napoleon got to his feet and looked over the desk to where Illya was crouching down by the floor. He took a step and could see the cat. A big, orange and white cat, huddled in the corner, but now sniffing at Illya's fingers.  
"Be careful," Napoleon told him.  
Illya reached out and petted the cat's side. The cat tolerated that, so he moved a bit closer and petted the back. In a moment the Russian agent had picked up the cat.  
"I'll take him to the lab," he told his partner.  
"I'll give an update to Waverly," Napoleon replied. His ankle still hurt so he reached down and pulled down the sock.  
"I think you need to go to the infirmary," Jones said behind him.  
Blood had run down his ankle into his shoe, but the sock had kept anyone from noticing it before.  
Napoleon frowned. He hoped it wouldn't need stitches.  
He noticed for the first time that the desk top had been cleared except for the blotter and a sheet of paper tucked in the corner. He read the scrawled note even though it was upside down.  
My name is Mekon. Please take care of me.  
"Jones, there's a note here. Will you see to it?"  
"Yes, Mr. Solo."

*****

Napoleon entered Waverly's office.  
On the conference table was the large orange and white cat, calmly sniffing at the papers. It looked up at him as he came in.  
"Where is Mr. Kuryakin?" Waverly asked.  
"On his way, sir. The lab called and asked if he'd pick up the supplemental report for you."  
Napoleon walked over and looked at the cat. Mekon sauntered over and sniffed his tentatively offered hand.  
The huge cat hissed and flattened his ears.  
Illya entered. He gave a small smile at Napoleon.  
"The report, Mr. Kuryakin," Waverly requested.  
"It is all normal," Illya told him, handing it over. "He's about three years old, neutered, healthy. There are no signs of any sort of internal tampering. There are a few things in his blood that seem odd, but the doctor thinks that it may merely mean he's had a recent shot or an illness in his youth. No sign of anything contagious. As we knew already, there was nothing poisonous on his claws." He glanced up at Napoleon meaningfully.  
"Mew," the cat said. He was standing at the edge of the table.  
"How do you do?" Illya greeted the cat.  
The cat took a friendly sniff of the Russian's hand then leaned into it for a pet.  
"He seems to like you, Mr. Kuryakin," Waverly said, looking up from the report. "Any idea how he got into the building?"  
"No sir. Internal security thinks someone might have smuggled him in, but I doubt anyone is going to have claimed to have done it now," Illya responded.  
"What will we do with him?" Napoleon asked.  
"Take him to the lab. We'll have to keep him until we figure out how he got into Headquarters. How he got in might be related to our information leak," Waverly said.  
"Yes sir," Napoleon responded. Somehow, even not knowing how the cat got into the building, he couldn't see the orange and white cat being a security problem. Especially since the lab had passed him as clean. He wondered how Waverly wanted them to get the cat down there -- he didn't see any kind of carrying case.  
"I'll take him," Illya offered. Napoleon wasn't about to turn him down. He'd felt the paw of this cat already. Why risk another nasty scratch?  
The Russian picked up the cat and Mekon reached up and rubbed the underside of Illya's chin with the top of his head. The two agents left Waverly's office.

*****

"Have you seen Illya?" Solo asked Susan, a secretary had been dating recently.  
"He told me he was going down to the lab again," she replied, then winked suggestively.  
Napoleon smiled, but inside he wondered why Illya had started spending so much time in the lab these last few weeks.  
He entered the laboratory and spotted Illya talking to a pretty young woman in a lab coat.  
"I was told you were down here, Illya," he greeted his partner.  
"Napoleon, I'd like you to meet Stacy Brown, the person in charge of our feline invader," he introduced the young woman.  
"Miss Brown." Napoleon turned on the charm. He could see a reason to be down here now. She looked up and gave him an enticing smile.  
"Illya has been coming down to visit Mekon," she told him.  
"I feel sorry for Mekon," Illya explained.  
"Why?" Napoleon asked.  
"Cats are independent creatures. I hate to see one being kept in a cage. I'd rather hate to be kept in a cage myself."  
Napoleon looked around and saw Mekon coming in from the other room.  
"But he's not in a cage," he said with a nod in the cat's direction.  
"Mew!" Mekon responded in his high pitched voice.  
"That's the fifth time today," Stacy said, exasperated.  
"He's been escaping?" Illya asked. "Those cages are made to be secure."  
"Nobody ever sees him do it, but he gets out," Stacy told them.  
"What's the point of trying to keep him in a cage if he gets out?" Napoleon asked.  
The cat hopped up on the counter and Napoleon caught a beaker as it fell. Mekon leaned against Illya. When Illya scratched his ears he broke into a throaty purr.  
"I guess there isn't any point," Stacy said. "After all, we just want to keep him in the building."  
"I think you just got paroled," Napoleon told the cat.  
As if to celebrate, the big orange and white cat turned and tipped a Bunsen burner over. Napoleon straightened it. At least it hadn't been lit.

*****

"Company," Napoleon said as he entered Illya's office.  
The Russian looked up in surprise at the unexpected greeting from his partner. Then he spotted the upraised tail that preceded the American in.  
"How did he get here?" he asked.  
"No idea, but he was waiting outside your door," Solo replied.  
"I'll have to remember to take him out before we go," Illya said.  
"We have that meeting with Waverly in a few minutes," Solo reminded him. "He wants to discuss that security leak again. April's affair was blown and she and Mark barely got out alive. We've got to find this leak soon. It's crippling our operations."  
"I think that since the leak started before Mekon showed up, he can safely be eliminated as a suspect," Illya said as he picked up a few sheets of paper. "Will you look this over, Napoleon."  
Napoleon did so while Illya got up and put on his jacket.  
"Looks good," he said, reading over Illya's outline for another security check. He walked over to the door and it slid open.  
Illya joined him, forgetting the cat as they discussed a point in Illya's outline. The door slid shut behind them before the cat could follow them out.

*****

"If you need any help with your report, let me know," Illya said to Napoleon as they arrived at Illya's office door. "Mine is already half done with the outline."  
"I appreciate that," Napoleon replied.  
The door slid open and an awful smell wafted out.  
"What?" Illya asked, looking in.  
His desk was cleared. Folders and the papers they had contained were strewn about the floor. Most of them had taken a direct hit in the trash can. Napoleon recognized Mekon's handiwork.  
Solo stepped back with a "Phew." He waved his hand in front of his nose trying to blow the smell away. "I think someone had a little accident," he said as he spoted a dark pile in the corner.  
The orange and white cat came out from behind the desk and trotted out the door.  
"I thought you liked me," Illya said accusingly after the cat.  
Mekon never hesitated. He headed down the hall to the elevator.  
"I'll take him down to Stacy," Napoleon told him. There was a twinkle in his eye.  
"You're a lot of help," Illya told him  
"Don't worry about that offer," Napoleon told him. "I think you'll be pressed to get your own report done now."  
Illya frowned after him, but Napoleon was following the cat.

*****

Both reports made it to Waverly's desk on time, though both were hot off the steno's typewriter.  
Napoleon looked in on the Russian later. A box of cat litter now took up a corner of the office.  
"Not taking any chances are we?" he laughed.  
"None. In fact, do you know what this is?" The Russian held up a strip of something yellow.  
"No idea," Napoleon replied.  
"I'm making Mekon his own little badge. A collar out of badge material. He won't need someone to open doors for him once he has this on."  
"What security level?" Napoleon asked.  
"Top security. I mean, who's he going to tell?"  
The American laughed.  
"Besides, he's had run from the building for almost a month and he's been trapped in offices several times. He doesn't set off alarms because he lacks the body mass for it, but it doesn't take a lot of badge material to open the doors and the receptionist can stop him if he tries to leave the building."  
"Maybe if he gets run of the building he can do something about the rodent problem," Napoleon added.  
"Stacy says he's caught two mice already. They must be coming up from the river. That's the only entrance that they might be getting in. With those docks and the river."  
"Mark says there must be something big down there chasing them up. He sure does like helping out the secretaries when there's a mouse around," Napoleon said, knowing full well he enjoyed it, too. "I think it must be hunger, with winter coming on."  
The appearance of mice in the building was a joke all the male agents enjoyed. They rather liked having to help the secretaries look for mice, or drive them away when they appeared.  
"At least they are only mice; remember that spider invasion a few years ago?"  
"Oh, yes, but some bug spray took care of them."  
"So, maybe the 'Cat from U.N.C.L.E.' will take care of the mice.

*****

Waverly frowned at his top agents and reached for his pipe. He toyed with it for a moment.  
"We have had this information leak for three months, gentlemen. In most cases there has to be someone who leaks the information. Many of the things Thrush has learned have not been discussed outside of this room, and only the agent in question and myself had any idea of what was going on."  
"Your secretary?" Napoleon asked, wishing the long legged brunette would come in.  
"No, the conversations were intentionally not documented."  
"How about that plan that we went through to decoy them if they had figured out how to bug this room?" Kuryakin asked.  
"That failed as well, as if they heard some of the plans we made when not in the room. We have had the entire building electronically checked, but the transmitting devlices seem to move."  
There was a 'thunk' behind Waverly.  
The men looked at the communications console. From between the wall and the machine an orange tail came out, followed by the rest of the cat. He looked up and they saw a small, brown body in his mouth.  
"Good kitty," Waverly told him. "I wish it were as easy to catch our leak as that cat finds catching mice." He waved the pipe stem toward Mekon.  
The orange and white cat leaped to the desktop, sending paper flying off the other side. Illya leaned down to pick up the paper. Mekon shook his head briskly and broke the mouse's neck.  
Illya sat up in time to catch the cat as he leapt off the desk and into his lap. Illya handed the papers to Napoleon and took the dead mouse from the cat, rather surprised that he was being given it.  
"Mew!" Mekon announced triumphantly.  
"That cat likes you, Illya," Napoleon said.  
"He can give you mice any time he feels like it," the Russian replied, darkly. Then he looked at the mouse. "Excuse me, Mr. Waverly. I think I'd better take Mekon back to the lab."  
He pulled out a handkerchief, wrapped the mouse in it, and put it in his pocket. Then he picked up the cat and left.  
"What was that about?" Waverly asked.  
"It must have..." Napoleon stopped. "I'll find out, Mr. Waverly."

*****

"They were lab mice -- that's why they were less afraid of people and we kept seeing them. Thrush had inserted tiny microphones into the skin of the neck. When Mekon gave the mouse to me, I could see a raised lump, distorted by the broken neck," Illya said. "Mekon was just giving me a gift. Stacy had been given the other two."  
"None the less," Waverly said, patting the cat on his desk, now cleared for the occasion, "he still solved this case for us and deserves a reward."  
"I think he should be assigned a number," Solo suggested.  
"An excellent idea, Mr. Solo," Waverly said.  
"Have you figured out how the mice were getting in, Mr. Kuryakin."  
"I believe that they were, indeed, coming through the river entrance. Probably Thrush got them in as close as they could. We'll probably never know how they drove them up from the river, but they no doubt shut off the transmitting devices in those who failed to make it inside.  
"The exterminators have been through the entire building twice now and will do so once more. Security has set up a regular schedule of spraying and I don't think we will be bothered by mice any more."  
"Excellent, you have done good work, gentlemen and cat." Waverly petted Mekon again.  
The cat yawned toothily and hopped down. He trotted for a door that slid open.  
"Wonder where he's going now?" Illya remarked.  
"Probably going to go find something to break," Napoleon said as the door closed behind him.


End file.
